The Haunting
by mollyisyourgirl
Summary: John Watson moves into his new flat at 221 B Baker street and finds that he is not alone in the flat. He is thrown into a world of mystery and the supernatural as he races to keep himself alive and to uncover secrets of the previous occupant of 221 B Baker Street.
1. Chapter 1

"Yes, Harriet I know. Yes, I know what number it is. I'm standing right in front of it right now. Look, I need to go. I can't talk to you and carry all my bags in at the same time. Yes, I'll be careful. Bye." John Watson got off his phone and looked at the door in front of him. The door was black and had the number 221 B on it. He sighed, "Welcome home John Watson." He said to himself. He grabbed his luggage and knocked on the door. He waited a few minutes until it was opened by a woman. "Hello." He said.

"Hello, you must be John Watson. I'm Mrs. Hudson." She said in a friendly voice. She wore a dark purple skirt, with a matching shirt and tights.

"Pleasure to meet you. I would shake your hand, but my hands are kinda full."

"Oh, dear. Please come in." She opened the door wider so he could come in.

"Thanks." He stepped into the building.

"The flat is right up the stairs." She said as she lead him up the flight of stairs that lead him to the flat.

"You're the first to have actually taken an interest in it and rent it since the last owner... left"

"I'm not sure why. The flat seems to be very nice and quaint." He said and indeed it was. It was a large flat, it had a nice open living room area which lead into a simple, but nice kitchen. The flat also had a very dark feeling about it and it also felt like there was a presence that didn't want him there.

"The bed rooms are over in that direction." Mrs. Hudson said as she pointed to the right of the living room. John shook off the feeling and looked over to where she point. "Thank you." He said.

"Is there anything I could get for you? A cuppa tea or some food?"

"A cuppa tea sounds nice, thank you."

"I'll that for you right away."

After she left he explored the new flat. It was very clean, and looked very well taken care of. Not a scratch was to be found until he saw saw the wall behind the couch. He at first though that they were just little nicks in the wallpaper, but as he looked closer he saw that they were six holes in the wall. "What the hell?" He whispered. He reached out his hand and felt the marks. _Did someone shoot the wall or something? _He thought to himself. He suddenly felt as if someone was watching him from behind and he turned around to see if anyone was there, but no one was. _I'm going crazy, and it is just the first 20 minutes here. _He heard steps coming up the stairs and Mrs. Hudson emerged from the stairs. "Here is your cuppa tea dear. " She said as she handed it to them.

"Thank you." He took it gratefully, "Who was the original owner of the flat?"

"A man named Sherlock Holmes. He was a strange man, but he was absolutely brilliant. He worked for Scotland yard as a Consulting Detective. He helped solve cases the police couldn't solve. Sherlock was a very lonely man, he didn't have many friends, and he was bitter, barely had any manners However, he could be kind when he wanted to be and was very protective."

"What happened to him?" John asked as he took a sips of tea.

"He commuted suicide. He jumped off the roof of St. Bart's; very tragic. The news was saying that he did it because he was a fake, and that he was so disgraced that he ended his life."

"Do you believe he was fake?"

"No, not at all. I believe that there were other factors involved." She sighed, "I'll leave you alone now, so you can get settled in." She walked over the the stair way, "I do hope you like it here. I can be very nice, and if you give it a chance you might be able to actually call it home." She said, with a tint of sadness before she went down stairs. John listened to the sound of her foot steps descending the stair way and pondered what she had said to him and about Sherlock Holmes.


	2. Chapter 2

_John was standing in a lab, or at least it looked like a lab;Microscopes and Petri dishes lined the counters. There was a man was standing at the counter; he was holding a pipette and was staring intently at the substance in front of him. The man was tall and was very pale in complexion. His dark hair accented his ice blue eyes. John heard foot steps from behind him; he turned and saw another man walking through the lab doors. This man was much shorter than the man in front of John, he was even shorter than himself. He wore glasses, a suit and a long light brown coat.  
_

_"Mike, can I borrow your phone? There"s no signal on mine." The dark haired man said without looking up. When he spoke, he spoke in a deep baritone voice that sent shivers down John's body. _

_"And what's wrong with a landline?" _

_"I prefer to text." _

_The man called Mike reached into his coat pocket and took out a phone. "Here you go." He then handed the phone to the other. The other man took it without a word and began texting. _

_"I suppose you haven't found a room mate for me yet?" _

_"No Sherlock, I haven't. No one seems to want one." Mike said. Sherlock... That's the original owner of the place I'm staying at. John thought. _

_Sherlock nodded in acceptance. _

_"Maybe you should go and find one yourself." _

_"No. I don't work well with people. Most of them are too idiotic for me to be around." _

_"Well if you-" _

_"No. I'll just pay the rent myself."_

_"What about that brother of yours? Surely he would help." _

_"Mycroft? I doubt it. He's much too busy with government affairs. If I need to, I'll ask for money." Sherlock said bitterly. _

_"If you gave him a chance I'm sure he would help." _

_"You don't know my brother." He retorted. _

_"Maybe you don't know him as well as you thought." Mike said quietly. Sherlock looked up sharply. He set the phone down on the counter and quietly put away his instruments. He brushed passed Mike and quickly put on a dark blue scarf and a black trench coat. Sherlock then stormed out of the room, leaving a cool breeze behind him. Mike grabbed his phone and sighed, "He just needs to give people a chance. All he needs is a friend."_

John woke with a start. What had he just dreamed? Was it even real? He ran his hands over his face and looked at the clock._**Blimey 1:30, I need to get back to bed.** _He thought to himself. He curled up on his side and closed his eyes, but he felt someone watching him. He turned around, but he didn't see anything. Then he noticed that the room had gotten much colder. **_That's odd, there are no windows in__ here._**He shrugged it off and tried to go back to was almost asleep when he heard the sound of a violin playing from the other room. John sat up in bed and listened. The tune that was being played was full of woe and bitterness, yet it was so hauntingly beautiful that a few tears escaped from John's eyes. He quickly wiped them away and got up to investigate the music.

He followed the sound to the living room and he stopped in his tracks; by the window, there was a man standing by the window, swaying to the music he played. John quietly moved into the room to get a better view of the man. He then realized that the man in his flat was the man who he saw in his dream- Sherlock Holmes. He kept moving around to get a better look at him, but the floor made a creaking sound when he took a step. The man known as Sherlock Holmes stopped playing. He looked back at John and said, "You shouldn't be here" and then disappeared. John stood and stared at the spot where Sherlock had been. _**I must be going mad.** _He thought before he went back to bed.


End file.
